


ah, it’s more courageous to overcome

by guilt_is_for_mortals



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Depressed Miya Atsumu, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Miya Atsumu Needs a Hug, Not Beta Read, Pre-Relationship, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:35:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29567607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guilt_is_for_mortals/pseuds/guilt_is_for_mortals
Summary: Kiyoomi knows that something must be wrong when Miya texts him.Miya Atsumu never apologizes.-Atsumu finds himself standing at the edge of a rooftop.The voices tell him to jump.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 186





	ah, it’s more courageous to overcome

**Author's Note:**

> this is heavily inspired by the song "achilles come down" by gang of youths.
> 
> please be aware that this story could be triggering to you if you  
> struggle with intrusive or suicidal thoughts.

Sakusa’s phone buzzed on his bedside table, the sound heightened by it’s vibrations against the wood. The man in question didn’t hear it at first. He was busy rubbing his hair dry with a towel after taking a long and hot shower. His feet were still bare and his face in the mirror pale and tired. It had been a long and exhausting day. They were in between seasons and it had only been a training game, but they had lost. _Lost_ .   
  
Of course it was not the first time that the game, in the end, didn’t turn out in their favour. They weren’t perfect, no matter how much they tried to reach towards that ideal. But it had been the first time that something was just plainly… off. Miya, ever the perfectionist when it came to volleyball, was not at the top of his game. His serves were not the ones Sakusa was used to. The more they failed, the more he let it get to his head this time, too fast, too quick, until neither him nor Hinata or Bokuto were able to hit his tosses right.   
  
There was yelling, after. They were sent home and told to get their shit together, whatever it might have been, they had to fix it. In the lockerroom he couldn’t help but bark at Miya, whose answer was heated and cut where it hurt. It was the first time Sakusa left the gym without taking a shower, hurrying home to rip his clothes off and halfway drown himself under the hot stream of his own, silent sanctuary. He only stepped out when his skin was red and the hot water felt like needles against it.  
  
He got dressed in fresh sweatpants and a hoodie when the obnoxious vibrating cut through the silence again. Who could need him this urgently right now? It was late. The only people he talked to were the team - if he had to - and his cousin. The others surely were home with their significant others or their TVs just like Sakusa was, trying to forget about today. They would have to think about it tomorrow at practise, that was soon enough. More than soon enough to see Miya again.   
  
The phone buzzed a third time. This time Sakusa grabbed it as a sudden flame of anger lit up inside of him.   
  
“Who on- oh of _course_ .” He cut himself off - talking to yourself now, Sakusa? - and stared at his lockscreen.  
  
  
 **3 new messages from Miya A.  
  
  
** He wanted to throw the phone back at his bed and ignore the annoying bastard. But then… Miya was something like his friend, right? He was just angry and let his emotions get the best of him. At first, yes, he had hated Miya, his stupid grin and remarks, the way he was cocky and too sure of himself. But after almost a year of playing in the same team, after living only two rooms apart from each other, they had become… something. Maybe they were friends, reluctantly allowing each other behind their respective walls.   
  
  
**from: Miya A. (21:03)  
** _  
Hey Omi-Omi, just wanted to let ya know that I’m sorry bout today. Wasn’t feelin my best but that shouldn’t have let me lose ma cool.   
  
  
_ **from: Miya A. (21:04)  
  
** _You don’t need to answer me, Omi-kun. Guess ya probably showering right now. Sorry ya had to leave without gettin clean, didn’t mean to do that. Yell at you, I mean.  
  
  
_ **from: Miya A. (21:07)  
  
** _I really am sorry, Omi-kun  
  
  
_ Sakusa stared at the text as if Miya had just confessed his undying love to him. _Something_ was undoubtedly wrong here. Miya didn’t apologize. He didn’t care. The texts he just received were so confusingly out of character for the other that a cold surge of worry washed over Sakusa. He shivered and buried his toes into the carpet below his feet. Should he answer? Their chatlog was a perfect mirror of their relationship. Miya would send him memes, an occasional selfie and dumb jokes. Very rarely, Sakusa replied.   
  
  
**to: Miya A. (21:22)  
  
** _It’s not like I’m going to bite your head off. But I do hope that whatever got into you today will be dealt with by tomorrow.  
  
  
_ It should have been a decent enough answer - it was the longest message Sakusa had ever sent to the other. He just disliked texting. Phones in general were pretty disgusting and you never really could tell tone and implications right. Talking to Miya in person was easier. When he could be sure that the other was being an asshole. And they did talk, more than he would have thought. Miya was probably the person he saw most often. It came naturally with being on the same team and living so close to each other. It only made sense to share a car to training and back. It was the environmentally decent thing to ask Miya if he needed groceries before driving to the store.  
  
His dark eyes glanced towards the screen as it lit up again, scattering his mental image of Miya singing along to some song in his car while he was driving.It was not an answer, though. Just some social media notification. His message to Miya was still unread when Sakusa checked.   
  
The clump of ice inside his stomach grew with every passing minute, the worry manifesting itself somewhere in his spine. As if pulled up by the strings of a puppeteer, Sakusa left his bedroom. He just about remembered to grab a jacket and to put on shoes before he pulled his door shut behind him.   
  
His knock echoed through the dark hallway, his pale knuckles turning red when he let them meet the wooden door again and again.  
  
“Miya. Are you there?” Silence usually was Sakusa’s friend, safe and calming. This silence was dangerous. Was he just being ignored? If Miya wasn’t here, where would he be? At his brother’s restaurant? No, Sakusa couldn’t imagine him reaching out to his twin in this state. The closest option was the roof, then.   
  
They had discovered it one day - Miya had, it was not like Sakusa to sneak around where he didn’t belong - and somehow made it their thing. The door was open for people to go out and smoke, but as all of them were more or less serious athletes, no one ever came up there. At least they had never seen anyone else. Miya wanted to plant herbs up on the roof. All they ever managed to get was one sad pot of lavender next to the two plastic chairs they had dragged up the steep steps. When they were sitting on the roof at night, pretending to be able to see stars through the city lights, they both became other people. Softer people, somehow. As if there, and only there, they could show their actual selves to each other. No masks, metaphorical or real. On the roof, they were friends. _Maybe more.  
  
_ Sakusa didn’t know why his hands were shaking as he opened the heavy iron door. He didn’t know what he had expected to find. Maybe Miya, sprawled on a red plastic chair, staring up into the sky. Anything, really, but definitely not the scene right in front of him.  
  
Only a dark shadow against the sickly neon lights from below, Sakusa found Miya Atsumuu with his feet aligned to the edge of the building. He stared down into the void. The ice inside of Sakusa spread into his fingertips and toes, the dread clawing on his spine hurting him from within.   
  
“Miya.”  
  
The blonde didn’t turn around, but in the way his shoulders lifted, Sakusa was sure that Miya had heard him. Slowly, he took a step towards the other. One. Two. Three.   
  
“Miya, would you… come here?” It was not like Sakusa to speak softly. He was not one to think about what his words did to people. He was without a doubt the worst person to be in this situation. Especially since the other didn’t move.  
  
“Miya, you are scaring me.” The words just left his lips, a truth that couldn’t be held back. He had been scared ever since he read the first text. He couldn’t understand this new reality, a world in which Miya Atsumu dropped his mask of pride. The man who acted like he had no fucks left to give, who lived like the only way for him was up. Had he gotten too close to the sun, did his wax wings melt? Would he fall? Jump?  
  
“Mi- _Atsumu, please_ . Come down from there.”  
  
\---  
  
The voice inside his head was telling Atsumu to jump. Again and again it whispered it’s bittersweet promise right behind his ears.   
  
_Fly, Atsumu, isn’t that what you were made for? Further and further, always up, as high as you can until your wings will break.  
  
_ He tried to tell the voice to shut up because, quite honestly, he had no plans to die anytime soon. He had a life that was worth living. He was very good at what he was doing. He had a family. Friends. A team. A career.   
  
_A career that might have begun to crumble today. Maybe this is your peak, the end, the cliff you had to reach. Jump, Atsumu, fly one last time. A reason to live can just as well be an excellent reason to die.  
  
_ At first he was sure that the voice was multiplying, getting stronger. But no, a new voice fought against his thoughts. How long would he be able to withstand? How much longer?  
  
“Atsumu, please. Come down.” Kiyoomi. How often had he told the other to call him by his first name, as “Miya” could just as well be his twin. Every time the other had declined. Of course he had, it was Sakusa after all, the person who merely tolerated his presence while Atsumu dreamt of being held by him. Being with him. He had long started to call Kiyoomi by his first name in his thoughts. How often had Atsumu imagined Kiyoomi talking back to the voice inside his head instead of himself? Omi-kun would have had no problem telling his mind to shut up.   
  
_Oh, he would tell me to shut up and tell you the same. He hates your rambling and the way you try to sneak into his personal space. Now he even has to be here and witness you, pathetic, broken boy, unable to do the most basic things like taking one more step, Atsumu, come on, it’s not that hard, is it?  
  
_ The voice inside his head had turned into his brother's voice. He was the one person who knew about Atsumu’s feelings for Kiyoomi. He had never been good at hiding anything from Osamu. After Atsumu told him, his twin had laughed at him for almost ten minutes and told him he wouldn’t have never have chance - and then left for a movie night with his boyfriend Suna. His words hurt Atsumu more than he would ever let Osamu know.  
  
 _He is the perfect audience for this. You want his attention, don’t you, everyone’s attention, all eyes on you tonight. At least his eyes. Wasn’t that what you always wanted, for him to look at you? It’s a dangerous thing, isn’t it, falling in love? Especially with someone so far out of your reach. Your broken body will match your broken heart down there, Atsumu. The act will finally be over, the curtains drawn and you don’t have to pretend anymore. Nobody likes your play, the role you choose. You tried so hard to act like you don’t care. Maybe you even believed it once...  
  
_ Atsumu shook his head now, violently, trying to get his brother's distorted voice to stop. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live and to try and to fly-  
  
 _“There's no purpose to existing…”  
  
_ “Don’t do this, Atsumu.” He wasn’t sure if he really had spoken the words out loud, but Kiyoomi answered. Was he in his head now, was he losing his mind? Or did Kiyoomi hear him?  
  
 _“Just be real for once and jump, ya dense motherfucker.  
  
_ “Don’t… listen to the voices, Atsumu.”  
  
 _“Ya will be on the ground where ya belong.”  
  
_ “You know that that is not the truth.”  
  
 _“Jump off the roof.”  
  
_ “Stay with me, Atsumu!”  
  
Strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him back. Atsumu had no power left in him to fight it. He was falling, finally falling, but only for a moment - then him and Kiyoomi collided with the gravel flooring of the rooftop. Through his thin jacket he could feel Kiyoomi’s entire body shaking.   
  
“You can never, ever, scare me that much again.” The other's voice was close to his ear, low and filled with so much fear and _anger_ .   
  
“I…” Atsumu hadn’t realized that he was sobbing until he tried to speak. Had he been crying the entire time or did it only just start now? He would never know. All that was important right now was that he was crying in the arms of Sakusa Kiyoomi, who held him close, on the dirty floor of a roof he just almost jumped off of. He was alive.   
  
“Promise me you’ll never do that to me again.” The words were whispered against his hair, Kiyoomi’s voice still trembling. His arms were still firmly wrapped around Atsumus body.  
  
“Why do ya care… ya don’t… like me,” Atsumu managed to get out after, his sobbing had calmed down a little.   
  
“Did the voices tell you that? Tell them to fuck off… there aren’t many people I would willingly fall onto this floor for.” The dry remark earned Kiyoomi a snort - Atsumu was now half crying, half laughing. He squirmed a bit in the other’s embrace and just for a second Kiyoomi hesitated, as if he was afraid Atsumu would run back towards the edge.   
  
“‘m not gonna run away again, Omi-kun,” he murmured. Reality was slowly seeping back into his consciousness. While the voices and thoughts that invaded his mind always had been there, tonight had been the worst so far. They had been loud and demanding - now they were silent.   
  
Kiyoomi allowed him to turn and practically sit in his lap, Atsumu’s legs draped over the others thighs and his face now hidden at his chest. They stayed like this for a small eternity, until he felt Kiyoomi’s lips pressing a kiss onto his hair.  
  
“I’m going to take you inside now, alright? Put you in a bathtub because you’re cold and a little gross right now. Then you’ll sleep, and tomorrow… we’ll talk about this and figure out how I can help you. I might know someone you can talk to. You don’t have to fight this alone.”  
  
Somewhere in between being pulled to his feet and Kiyoomi grabbing his hand while they made their way back to his apartment, Atsumu realized three things.   
  
That it might be okay to not be okay and to let his mask slip from time to time.   
  
That the voices in his head might not be so scary when he knew that Kiyoomi was by his side.   
  
And that, in the end, he might be able rise and not fall.  
  
  
 _\---_

_Throw yourself into the unknown_

_With pace and a fury defiant_

_Clothe yourself in beauty untold_

_And see life as a means to a triumph_

_Today of all days, see_

_How the most dangerous thing is to love_

_How you will heal and you’ll rise above_

_Crowned by an overture bold and beyond_

_Ah, it’s more courageous to overcome_

**Author's Note:**

> please remember that it gets better, friends.  
> don't listen to the voices.
> 
> stay safe.


End file.
